


Sheafwork

by VanaTuivana



Category: Jupiter Ascending (2015)
Genre: Bureaucracy, Diplomacy, Gen, Paperwork, Post-Canon, Space Politics, Spaceships, Tea, The Aegis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:17:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanaTuivana/pseuds/VanaTuivana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the despicable things Diomika Tsing held the Abrasax family personally responsible for after the past week, the most vile was the absolute mountain of sheafwork they’d left in their messy wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sheafwork

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wickedtrue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedtrue/gifts).



Of all the despicable things Diomika Tsing held the Abrasax family personally responsible for after the past week, the most vile was the absolute mountain of sheafwork they’d left in their messy wake.

She’d just worked her way through Schedules 6382-2g and 6382-2h, three 721.21 reports, _nine_ separate L-19 justifications for fuel and ordnance expenditures, a formal notice of Commonwealth treaty infraction against Titus Abrasax which she took particular pleasure in making entirely thorough, and was halfway through a particularly thorny GR-989 file when she looked up to find a cup of hot tea at her elbow and her XO at the door with an armful of his own sheaves.

“Proper tea, scalding hot, a generous dash of milk, and sweeter than the proverbial Doranian concubine’s kiss,” Phylo Percadium said in response to her questioning eyebrow. “I thought you could use it, Captain.”

Diomika brushed her hand over the sheaf to save her progress and leaned back in her chair, giving Phylo a tight-lipped smile. “I could. Thank you for that. I hope the crew is enjoying their unexpected leave.”

“From what I hear, they’re the most popular officers in the system after that little adventure we just took them on,” he answered, and came forward to perch on the edge of her desk. “I’d be surprised if any of them had to pay for a single drink as long as we’re in port.”

She shook her head, lifting the cup to her lips. “Ah, to be young, exciting, and free from sheafwork.”

Phylo gave her his wry little grin. “Speaking of…” He dropped his own sheaves onto a relatively clear section of her desk. “Engineering sent these up for you to sign and seal and send on to Administration. Damage reports, repair estimates, requisition requests. I’ve already looked them over; I don’t think Moni padded them too much, but I expect you’ll want to check for yourself.”

Suppressing a sigh, Diomika pushed her completed sheaves into a neater stack. “Right. I’ll get on that. Anything else?”

“All aboard is correct and shipshape, ma’am, and my sheafwork’s all transmitted.” He made a sharp salute. “Permission to join the crew on leave? There’s a sweet little aviant waiting for me in some dimly-lit bar down there, I can just feel it.”

“Granted. Have fun, Commander.” She watched him leave, envying her second-in-command with every fiber of her being, and then turned back to the stack of sheaves -- which, it seemed, was only growing.

Two Orous hours later, with half a cup of cold tea at her side, she was still working the GR-989 and stalled on how best to classify her arrest and subsequent release of an Aegis Marshal. At the moment she felt entirely justified in calling down curses on Stinger Apini’s whole genepool for his appalling choice of days to sell out to an Abrasax. She’d narrowed the options down to Action 3042-30m (“Cautionary Detention of Non-Subordinate Officer on Suspicion of Offense, Major, Overturned - Complainant Declined to Prosecute”) or Action 3042-30p (“Cautionary Detention of Non-Subordinate Officer on Suspicion of Offense, Major, Overturned - Entitled Intervention”) or, as a less-accurate yet possibly more politically sound alternative, 3029-8a (“Cautionary Detention of Any Officer on Suspicion of Offense, Major, Overturned - Mistaken Identity”) when her desktop comm chimed.

Diomika pushed the sheaf away with more relief than was really seemly in an officer of her experience, and swiped her hand over the comm to accept the message. “Yes?”

Alone on the bridge, Gemma looked worried, if an android could be said to look anything but eternally serene. “Captain, there’s an incoming click for you. A private call, under Security Code 66.”

That clearance was far too high to be anything but bad news; she straightened her uniform and slid the stacks of sheaves to the side to make her desk look neater. “Understood. From Orous?”

“No, Captain.” Gemma’s plasticine eyebrows were knitted, or maybe Diomika was projecting. “It’s from Cerise.”

That was unsettling and, given recent events, probably even worse than being contacted by Aegis Administration on Orous. Refusing the click would not be good politics, and politics aside, wouldn’t be wise, not when she was dealing with the second-most-powerful woman in the known universe. Diomika took a moment to straighten her spine and make her face appropriately stern, and lifted her chin in preparation. “Thank you, Gemma. Put her on my screen.”

It only took a few breaths for the click to come through. The lighting was excellent, probably calculatedly so; the viewscreen was centered on a silk-draped divan in an airy room filled with graceful ornamentation, the rustling of red-leaved trees and the light song of a fountain coming through in the background. It was a beautiful scene, if you liked that kind of thing.

Diomika didn’t, or at least she didn’t trust it. That much carefully-cultivated tranquility tended to put her teeth on edge. She nodded curtly. “Your Highness. Captain Diomika Tsing of the Aegis here. What can I do for you?”

Kalique Abrasax, brand-new First Primary of the House of Abrasax, lounged on the divan, her flawless fair skin luminous against the sheer black of her diaphanous gown. She was veiled from forehead to wrists, an affectation of deep mourning that had been in vogue among Entitled a century ago; having had more than half a tick of experience with this family, Diomika wasn’t inclined to believe that this one was sincere about any of it.

It made for an impressive effect, though, and the throaty timbre of the Entitled’s voice when she answered almost sounded genuine if you weren’t already looking for the trick. “Captain Tsing, how pleasant to see you again,” she said, and inclined her head gracefully. “I’m told I have you and your heroic crew to thank for the rescue of our dear Jupiter from that tragic…” She paused, her words artfully catching in her throat. “That _accident_ at the stockworks.”

 _Accident_. Diomika carefully kept her face stony. “We did our duty, yes, ma’am.”

“There’s no need to be modest, Captain. I’m told you went far beyond duty, placing yourself and your ship in harm’s way to aid in the rescue, and you are to be highly commended for your efforts.” Kalique sighed prettily. “It’s such a shock, you understand: discovering my beloved mother’s recurrence and then nearly losing her in almost the same instant. And then my dear brother Balem’s death in the… accident. I hardly know what to do with myself.”

If this Abrasax had interrupted her day to talk about her emotions over the death of her unhinged brother, Diomika was going to be even more put out with this family than she already was. “I can only imagine,” she said with all the wooden formality she’d learned in the Legion years ago.

“Of course, familial bonds are one thing, and business is another,” Kalique went on. Diomika sat a little straighter. “As you must be aware, Abrasax Industries has suddenly found itself in something of a delicate situation. The loss of Balem’s stockworks is a blow on its own; I’m told we will not be allowed to even _begin_ surveying the site until the Aegis has finished its official investigation of my poor brother’s recent regrettable actions. Not to mention that his holdings may be tied up in legal proceedings for decades, and if this matter with our beloved Jupiter isn’t resolved quickly, it may take _centuries_ for us to completely recover.” Kalique smiled into the camera behind her veil, dimpling coyly. “You see my dilemma, Captain.”

Diomika barely blinked. “My sympathies, Your Highness, but I believe all that is for the lawyers to argue over. It’s their sole purpose, in fact.” She allowed herself the tiniest shake of her head. “Frankly, I’m not sure what the Aegis can do for you, but if you’d like to contact Administration, they might--”

“Oh, it’s not the Aegis I want, Captain.” Kalique leaned forward, the veil shifting against her shadowed features. “I’d like to offer _you_ a contract.”

That was unexpected; she paused. “I’m not looking for a job in the private sector, ma’am,” she said finally and extremely carefully.

“Of course, I understand. I’m told it’s taken you decades to get where you are. From lowly Legion recruit to Captain of your own ship? That’s quite the success story, my dear, and with all your recent accomplishments, I think you’re certainly deserving of a promotion. I imagine if the right pressure were applied, your superiors could be persuaded to feel that way, too.” Kalique let that hang in the air for a moment. “I do believe we could help one another, Diomika.”

Diomika kept her breathing even and her expression still, and inclined her head in acknowledgement of the offer. “Your highness,” she said, “what is it that you want from me?”

Kalique lifted her veil and smiled into the camera. “Why, it’s only a trifle. I need a royal escort to Earth, to pay a visit to my beloved mo--”

Diomika swiped her hand over the comm, ending the message abruptly. She stared into the blank screen for one long moment, visions of demotions and reprisals dancing through her head, and then she sighed and activated the comm again. “Gemma? Block all incoming clicks from Cerise.”

The android’s plasticine features were possibly just a little relieved. “Yes, Captain.”

“And click Percadium for me.”

“Yes, Captain.”

She spent the two ticks before the click connected shoveling every last sheaf into her desk drawer. She’d just locked it with only the tiniest note of contrition when Phylo came onscreen, in rumpled uniform and with a few white feathers still caught in his hair. He saluted her warily. “Captain?”

“Sorry to cut your R&R short, Commander,” Diomika said, tactfully ignoring the sultry fluttering of pale wings going on behind her XO. “Something’s come up. Recall the crew from leave. I want everyone accounted for in one hour.”

To his credit, Phylo didn’t even blink. “I’ll get everyone back aboard straight away. Where are we off to, ma’am?”

Diomika straightened her collar, already feeling better about this day. Attempted bribery, sheafwork, _politics_... none of this was what she’d signed up for, but enforcing Commonwealth law and protecting the innocent _was_ , and the new Abrasax matriarch clearly needed that now. “Back to Earth. We’re going to rescue Jupiter Jones from her horrid family.” She considered that for a moment, then smiled. “Again.”


End file.
